~ A Chronicle of My Fresh Start

About Me, Now

Though I have things I really geek out about, I almost never talk about them here, mainly because I have very specific, very identifiable taste. The things I love . . . I tell everyone I love them.

I am often teased for being overly enthusiastic, so I have dialed back that part of my personality a bit. Sadly, that unbridled enthusiasm is part of my charm and me without gushing about a great new song or movie or show or dress or whatever is just not me.

Part of my new year’s resolution was to be more open and sharing with the people in my life about the things about which I am passionate — a great book, a fabulous poem, a painting I love, a perfectly crafted pop song, an exquisite scene in an otherwise terrible movie, a spoken word performance that gives me chills. Most of my friends could not care less, so I have chosen to not share that stuff with them anymore, choosing to skip the eyerolling and castigation and just talk sports with them.

With others, like BFD, I can get into the passions and the whys of our passions: why do you love it? what does it say to you? why do you feel as you do when you see, hear, experience it? Whatever “it” is, I love having people in my life with whom I can discuss how we see and react to whatever we have before us.

When I feel like I am losing myself to my occasional bouts of (typically hormonally-induced) depression, that’s what I lose . . . my passion, my enthusiasm, my love, my vision, and my desire to share what is important to me . . . even if it’s just a bauble or a movie. Those things shape me. They have rewired my brain to work and see differently.

Art changes how we see the world — whether on a page or in a concert hall or hanging on the wall of a gallery or museum or on a hanger in a boutique, we become different because of the art we experience.

One reason I love BFD is that we ask each other “why do you love it? what does it say to you?” He thinks about those things. He wants to know how and what I see, as I want to know from him. Our first date was meaningful in part because that’s how we connected — we wandered around and examined things and compared notes and reconsidered things based on what the other saw. We share those things and we ask “why.”

That’s such an important element of my life, and it is something I realize I have been missing as I get caught up in the stress and struggle of survival.

Until the last year with the global financial crisis and my money problems, I have often bought things that mean something to me for the people I love. I routinely bought books and cds and movies for people for no reason except that I want them to share in the beauty I experienced, even though I knew that my efforts were often unopened and unappreciated. Sometimes, years later, I would get a call from my dad or a friend or an ex to say “Wow, I just realized why you sent this.” Though my hit rate was low, I was always delighted to share something I loved with the people I love, and when they loved it too . . . it was extraordinary.

I just got a call yesterday from W, who said, “I have been listening to that cd you recommended non-stop for days.” It’s just a pop cd, but it is a good pop cd, full of clever lyrics, interesting melodies, and a lovely vocal.

I have been missing this passionate, enthusiastic part of myself lately. I miss talking about these things with people. When it happens, I am happy for days.

I am a very simple person. The things that make me happy make me ridiculously happy. The things I love I want to share with the people I love. I am fortunate to be able to call my brother or my parents or my boyfriend or a couple precious others to say “Wow! You have to see/hear/experience this!” That is who I am and it’s who I need to be.